far too much writing, far too many photos

Time has been streaming by. A look at the calendar provides the startling info. that today is May 24. How the hell did that happen?

Last Friday: drove down to Tarrytown, N.Y., hooked up with friends, passed an interesting couple of days that contained a bit of everything. Got there in cool but nice weather, Saturday passed cold and rainy (though not the snow/sleet/rain extravaganza that most of New England experienced), Sunday dawned awash in sunlight and warm temperatures. Bona fide spring. A female friend and I drove north, leaving spring slowly but surely behind — the fourth time in the last two months I’ve traveled from spring to late winter, a trend that has got to stop. Once here, the weather began a slow transition, temperatures warmed, sunshine became more abundant, the blackflies showed up. Yesterday, springtime finally surfaced. Today’s not quite as glorious, but at least the coal stove doesn’t need to be cranked up.

Good weather, of course, means cutting grass. Between the two or so acres of lawn that get mowed (or is it mown?) here and Vermont weather being what is, it’s a good idea to take advantage of sunny/dry spells. That means I spend a fair amount of time out in the fresh air raising a cloud of glass clippings. Yesterday it also meant walking along in a cloud of blackflies. Liberal application of bug goo kept them from biting, but not from hovering around in an agitated state of bloodlust, a repeat of their behavior on an excursion to Nichol’s Ledge the day before.

I’m not spending much time online these days — my attention’s been elsewhere. Places I may not write about, at least not right now. The good news is that I’m slowly reorienting myself around writing.

Time will tell what comes of it.

[Author's note, 11/22/05 -- See that? "...my attention's been elsewhere. Places I may not write about, at least not right now." Closed-mouth, withholding son of a bitch.

I wasn't having much fun. The visiting woman friend the entry refers to: she of my visit to Greensboro. She'd made the drive north -- to see me and other folks -- fretting about money matters, which turned out to be indicative of her general state of mind. The visit didn't go as either of us had hoped. She developed a huge eruption on her face -- apparently her body expressing stress, emotional turmoil -- and she seemed to hold herself apart. She went off to visit a female friend in Maine, found herself having a good time and, not surprisingly, lingered on and on, staying far longer than I'd expected. When she finally stopped back through, I think whatever connection we'd been investigating had effectively been laid to rest, the balance of her stay slipped quickly away, as did she at its end.

What a ball, huh? See why I didn't want to talk about it?

And with her exit, yours truly found himself in the company of me, myself and I, out in the Vermont countryside.]

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